Oh, How I Loved You Then
by danceswithspirits
Summary: Moira thinks back to the night she realized her feelings for Offred.
The blue light from the campus emergency phone was casting an ethereal glow into the small dorm room. It was almost three in the morning, and Kate and I were failing to get any sleep. There was too much going on, in the world, in our country, at the school, and in my head. I remember looking over to her bed, seeing her eyes roll to meet mine. God, I wish I had spent more time looking at her. I had known from the first time I saw her that Kate was beautiful, but it wasn't until that night that I gave those observations a second thought. "It's obvious" I would say. "Anyone with eyes can see it." Oh, how things changed.

It was a slow night, the kind that overflows the heart and spills words from unencumbered mouths. I remember we were talking about term papers. Such a pedestrian topic that could only be profound on a night such as that.

"What did you write about?" she asks. The lilt of her voice spoke of her genuine interest in what I had to say, such a foreign concept to a cultural deviant such as myself.

"I'll tell you if you tell me first," I said with a smile in my voice.

Kate was a good student, so, of course, her paper was about a suitable topic, the role of mothers in a child's psychology. Having met her mother on several occasions, I could see why she had picked the topic. Not many mothers would take their children to festivals for the express purpose of burning pornography, who wants their kid to see that?

I could listen to her talk for hours about anything; she had such a way with language. I could only envy her command of every grammatical rule and loophole in the book and her ability to embellish even the most boring topic with her little insights. She had an opinion on everything, but unlike me, she had enough tact to wait until it was alright to express it. That would serve her well in whatever future was coming our way.

I rather liked the sound of that "Our way". Implying that we would still face everything together after college. I wanted that. I didn't know why maybe I just thought I needed the company.

She turned to look at me, her hair now falling over her left shoulder like something out of classical painting, or maybe an old pinup. Maybe being the way I am made it easier for me to see beauty in front of me. It was not strange for me to notice the little things about Kate that made her beautiful. Her wavy, sandy colored hair, her wide eyes, her smooth shoulders, it was all wonderful. I'm sure it still is.

She asked what I had written about. I started a little, having gotten lost in my thoughts about her.

"The meaning of love" I replied.

She asked what I had said about it.

I told her that love was valuing someone else above yourself. That love was the genuine joy that you get from simply being with someone. Love is what you keep trudging on for when it seems the world has stopped turning. She looked thoughtful at this. Her eyebrows were pulling up and together slightly as the bow of her lips pursed. That was one thing about Kate; she was very expressive. Then, much to my surprise and slight embarrassment, she giggled.

"It sounds like _someone_ has a crush!" she said with a smile in her voice, wiggling her eyebrows at me.

I remember sputtering some pathetic excuse of a denial that was probably more evidence for her assumption than any other statement I could have made. I must have looked like some exotic fish for how wide my eyes became and how my mouth had dropped open. Of course, I did not have a crush! That's what I was telling myself, at least.

But then I looked at her again, and something clicked into place.

When I had been writing, I had not had to think very carefully about what love meant because I had an example right in front of me. I had written what I felt for Kate. I had written an entire term paper about loving my best friend, and I didn't even know it. Somehow, between the classes, extracurriculars, and quiet nights, I had fallen in love with my best friend.

I was completely shocked at the realization. On top of that, I was afraid. I was scared of losing her; I was afraid that she wouldn't accept me after this. It was kind enough of her to put up with my sexuality in the first place, but how would she handle it if that desire was directed towards her? I thought that she would hate me, so I decided that I would keep it a secret. She would never have to know.

Of course, I could not just keep going as I was. So in the quiet of the night, watching Kate roll her eyes fondly at my idiocy, I made a vow. I made a promise to myself that I would be only for her. I would not let myself or anyone else take me. I would be for her and her alone, even if she did not want me.

That was many years ago. Now as I sit in the lounge of this seedy club, my only comfort is to think that I may see her again some day. I have broken my vow. I exist now only as an instrument of pleasure for disgusting old men, but when I think of her, it is not so bad. Sure, I'm sure she would be disgusted with me, but it's not like I ever told her what I had planned to do for her. She did not know that my attempted escape was to preserve myself for her.

I hear some of the other girls talking. Apparently some Commander has brought in a girl with him.

"Probably his Handmaid" one of them says. There is pity and envy in her voice. I sigh, thinking of what the Commander is doing with her, the humiliation this Handmaid is probably feeling.

Maybe I'll try and talk to her.


End file.
